


Tainted Spirits

by Castianayiana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Deep Roads, F/M, Gen, Old Gods (Dragon Age), Talking Darkspawn, The Calling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castianayiana/pseuds/Castianayiana
Summary: Solona Amell learns about Corypheus from the Architect. She also discovers, that there might be more to their relationship, than simple alliance.





	Tainted Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> I always found it strange, how unsuprised the Warden sounds, when you send her a letter. It always felt to me, like she knew more than she let on.  
> What was also weird is how there was no mention of the Architect at all. Did he an Corypheus never meet?  
> Soo, I wrote a little piece, where the Architect tells the Warden about him. I hope you'll like it!  
> (Also, English is not my main language, so any mistake is due to that. Apologies)

Solona Amell stood in the vast space of the Deep Roads, listening to the Old Gods, calling out to her. She marvelled at the beauty of it.

She only heard Urthemiel when he was already corrupted. Hearing an Archdemon in her head was terrifying. Made the taint in her blood burn, twisting her stomach with nausea. The truly horrible thing about it was that she wanted to hear _more_ of it. Because underneath that thick, repulsive layer she felt something beautifull. Something that _Called_ to her.

Now, walking in an area of the Deep Roads, that was so old, and so forgotten that no map existed of it, she understood what lay under the Archdemon’s tainted call.

Razikale, or Lusacan, or _both_ sang in her head now. She felt her heartbeat speed up, and found herself taking several steps toward their Calling. It was dreadfully beautifull. Perfect in every sense. It made her yearn to go and find them, and free them, to gaze upon the beings that could sang that way in her head.

She’s done a few thing in her life. She’s been to Orzammar, to ancient elven ruins in the Brecilian Forest. She stood in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, which was the pinnacle of human construction. She passed the tests, and was rewarded with a pinch of Andraste’s Ashes.

And yet she was never filled with such _awe_ in her life before.

„Alluring, isn’t it?” came a soft voice behind her.

Solona teared her attention away from the Old Gods’ voices in her head and turned back to one of the side tunnels.

The Architect stood there, with his arms at his side, mask on face. Solona wondered a lot what he looked like beneath it. Was his face badly disfigured? She asked to see his face once, but he politely refused. He was ever so polite. Never losing his strange _chevalier_ like attitude. In a strange and disturbing way she found it charming. Even endearing him to her.

Solona sighed. She spent way too much time down here, if such thoughts came to mind.

„I never heard them so clearly. I only heard Urthemiel through my dreams, and it was distant. Usually, when I’m down here, I hear something. But never before I felt something pull at me so.”

„You bear only a small amount of taint compared to the darkspawn. I believe physical proximity is needed in order for you to make them out.” he paused when he reached her side. „Or more time for the taint to spread in your blood”

Solona felt suddenly sick. She knew what he was suggesting. She visited this part of the Deep Roads before. A few years back, while scouting. She did not hear the Old Gods then. Since they couldn’t move, the only explenation that remained was the taint in her blood slowly advancing. She knew that the Calling claimed all Grey Wardens. But to actually be able to measure the process on her… To be aware how much closer she was to becoming mad, and completely tainted…

„Is this what darkspawn hear all the time?” she choked. The Architect solemly nodded. „No wonder they search for them so tirelessly. We need to find a way to stop this.”

Solona was not a fool. She knew that darkspawn were dangerous creatures. They would rip her apart, then eat her. Or worse, try to make her a Broodmother. There was no mercy in them. They did not deserve pity.

But perhaps they deserved a chance to change…

Agreeing to work with The Architect was not necessearly a surprising decision for her. Looking back on her life, it seemed she was preparing herself for it. She kept Avernus alive, despite the atrocities he commited, because his knowledge of the taint. When Morrigan came to Solona wit her proposal, she agreed without much thought.

She imagined being Urthemiel, corrupted into something atrocious. To Solona, it sounded much like being an abomination. And just as she sought to save Connor in Redcliff, instead of blindly killing him, she grabbed the opportunity to save Urthemiel. Yes, there was the danger of him being just as cruel cleansed. Yes, Flemeth could get a hold of him, or even Morrigan could use him for her own ambitions.

But she could not let that fear influence her. All her life, she was locked away in the Circle, for all the things that she _could have_ become. Though she found mages who turned to demons foolish, she never blamed them. Wanting to be free was normal.

What if that was what the Old Gods wanted? Wanting to break from their prison, and the darkspawn the only way to do that?

She needed to give Urthemiel a chance.

And then came The Architect in her life. With his quiet saddness for his kind. Who was Solona to declare darkspawn beyond saving? Did _they_ not deserve a chance to _be_ something other than mindless husks drawn to the Old Gods?

She knew that neither Old Gods, or darkspawn were _good_. But after being opressed most of her life, freedom – be it of literal freedom, freedom of will, free to change, to choose – was something she had to provide to others. Everyone.

Consequences be on her head. She already carried so much guilt caused by her decisions. She could carry a few others.

„Our researches is going well. More darkspawn seem to survive the Joining. And perhaps in a few years we can stop the Calling from claiming the Wardens” interrupted her thoughts the Architect. She had to crane her neck to look at him. She had to do that to almost anybody, that was not a dwarf, since she was so small – diminutive was the right word – but he was way above human height. He looked… tense somehow. Sad. Even more than usual.

„Despite someone who feels hopefull about the work of his life, you seem astonishingly gloomy today.” Teasing jokes. The Architect did not know what to do with them most of the time, and yet he found them oddly captivating. In rare cases, he even attempted one himself. Solona always laughed, just to encourage him. It made him more… human.

„I had a visitor today” Solona frowned. What did he mean? No one, not even Wardens, or the Legion of the Dead came this far into the Deep Roads. „One that made me reconsider one of our arguments.”

Well, that didn’t make it any clearer, since they disagreed a lot.

„As much as I love you being cryptic, Architect…” she started, before being interupted. To do something so impolite was very much out of character for him.

„It was an emissary. One who was intelligent and able to talk. One, who did not undergo the Joining” The Architect was looking straight ahead, as if not being able to look at her. „Corypheus was his name, and he claimed to be a priest of Dumat.”

Ah, that argument…

Solona felt dread slowly overtake her as she listened to the Architect. How this Corypheus wanted to besiege the Black City again, and be the God, that the people of Thedas deserved in his mind. How he wanted the Architect’s help figuring out how to enter the Fade physically, and bring Tevinter back to it’s formal glory.

„Why did he want your help specifically?” she knew the answer, but needed to hear it.

„Must you make me say my shame?” he whispered. His shoulders sagged, head bowed. „Must you make me say it out loud that I caused all of this? That the darkspawn are mindless creatures because of me? That the Blights – that claim so many lives – never would have happened if not for my hubris?”

„You seem to take his word for sure. Does that mean that… you remember?”

„I looked at him and _knew_ him.” he finally turned toward her. „In truth, ever since you mentioned your theory about me I suspected. But denied it, because I did not want it to be true.”

Solona puzzled over what to say. The news did not surprise her. She already figured this out, and got over the fact. Her concern was this Corypheus. Having a darkspawn army forever searching for Archdemons was bad enough. The world did not need an old tainted Tevinter magister to aspire to godhood.

Maker, what a mess. Why did things keep happening in her life time?

But looking at the Architect made it clear that the news was important to him. To keep their alliance working she had to calm him. And in truth she wanted to reassure him. They spent so much time together in the last few years, it felt… right to be nice to him.

Without thinking she reached out and touched his wrist just below his golden bracelet. Solona wasn’t sure who was more shocked. She never touched a darkspawn before outside of battle. She thought it would be unmistakably different and repulsive, but beside it being moist, it was just like human skin. The Architect actually took a step back, staring at her fingers around his wrist. Solona could not see his eyes, but she was fairly certain they were wide with surprise. She had to make him comfortable somehow.

„Yes, you made a mistake. But you are repairing the damage. You started correcting it even without the knowledge that you caused it. Before you, no one even considered that darkspawn could be more than witless husks. What you achieved is nothing sort of amazing."

The Architect stared at their joined hands for the longest time, then ever so gently pried his wrist free from her hold, but did not let go.

„I wish your opinion of me alone could make things better for the world… But thank you. Your faith in me means… everything.” His voice cracked a bit from the emotion that overwhelmed him.

There was an almost awkward hesitation in the way he hold her hand, before he lifted it to his lips, and pressed a kiss on it. A sudden warmth traveled up Solona’s arm, and her heart beat so fast, she couldn’t here the Old Gods' song from it for a moment.

„I promise you, my warden, that I will keep going. I will not rest, until I find a way to free my people from the curse I let befall on them.”A slight squeeze on her hand, before he let go. „And we will find a cure for you as well.”

_We_ … Solona wondered what her old companions would have thought of her in that moment. Disgust? Disappointment? That she betrayed them? But she did not care. She let contentment fill her.

Yes. As perplexing as it would have seemed all those years ago, she was working with a darkspawn now. And he was her friend. And they were going to rid the world of the taint.

_Together._

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep the building relationship between them to a minimum, so people who find the Architect repulsing, could still enjoy this story.  
> I am considering writing more about them though, because I feel they are kindred spirits. Two tortured souls, who might find some kind of happiness in each other in the Deep Roads. Will see about it.  
> This is my first story here on AO3, so any feedback would be appreciated. Thanks for reading my story!


End file.
